#the infernal communion
Note
“What’s that? You think I’m not up to the task, demon? Surely you doubt too much. Haven’t you asked any other girl who knows me about my ‘equipment’~?”
(For Ibuki)
"One would think a man of your repute, then, would not be so quick to jump to his own defense. After all, surely your deeds alone would be evidence enough to prove your capabilities, no?" Her lips pull back into a wicked grin. "Surely, a man so accomplished would not feel the need to brag of his 'equipment', no?"
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Devil In Disguise -
Priest!Aemond Targaryen/Reader
Tw: blasphemy?,fem!reader
━━━━━━━━━ 𐕣 ━━━━━━━━━
With a heart heavy with remorse, a penitent spoke the words, “Father, bless me, for I have sinned.”
In a voice of calm understanding, Father Aemond replied, “Of course, my child.”
It had been two endless years since their last confession, and as their hands clasped tightly onto the rusted iron of the gate, Aemond's gaze locked with the penitent's eyes. In that fleeting moment, their eyes shimmered red, peering into the depths of his very soul.
“You, Father, are no servant of Christ. Your place is among the infernal depths,” the words hissed from their lips in a sinister, demonic tone. “I see the taint that stains your heart. Embrace it. Join me.”
With an effortless motion, the creature swung open the barred window, inviting darkness into the sacred sanctuary.
Trembling with fear, Aemond clenched his Bible tightly in his hands.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Begone, demon! Your rebellion ends here!” His voice quivered as he spoke, but his faith remained unyielding.
All his efforts were in vain, as the malevolence finally reached him. The chilling sound of a cackle resounded in his ears, followed by the haunting words," My arrogant and vain son.”
Aemond's eyes snapped open with an abruptness that left him gasping for air, drenched in a cold sweat. Startled and shaken by the vividness of the nightmare that had gripped him, he quickly sat up, his heart pounding in his chest.
Seeking solace and grounding in the present, he rose from his bed and made his way towards the bathroom. As he splashed cold water on his face, he braved a look into the mirror, hoping to find reassurance in his own reflection.
There, gazing back at him was a visage filled with remnants of fear and unease. The sleepless nights and the weight of his burdens were etched on his face, lines creeping across his forehead and shadows darkening the hollows beneath his eyes.
For a moment, he wondered if the torments of his nightmare had truly left him or if they still lurked within, ready to pounce at the slightest weakness. Yet, a flicker of determination in his weary eyes affirmed his resilience and resolve. Aemond straightened his back, steeling himself against the lingering shadows, determined to face whatever darkness lay ahead.
Whispering to no one but his own thoughts, Aemond breathed the words, "Let only the fear of God consume you."
In the heart of the small town, the church stood as a steadfast pillar of community for Aemond. Week after week, he conducted masses and forged strong bonds with the families who called this place their spiritual haven. But on this fateful day, amidst the predictability, an unexpected sight caught him off guard - a newcomer.
Dressed in your finest Sunday dress, you stood out from the crowd with an air of quiet confidence. Aemond couldn't help but be intrigued by this anomaly amidst the familiar faces he knew so well. He observed you from across the room, your posture radiating grace.
What captured his attention the most, however, was the cross necklace gently nestled in your bosom.
As he continued with the ceremony, his thoughts momentarily wandered, glimpses of you slipping into his mind. He couldn't deny the stirrings of attraction that tugged at him, though he quickly dismissed them as an inconsequential distraction.
"Get ready to administer communion. Wait for the usher to instruct your row to come forward."
The congregation eagerly approached the altar to receive the sacred body of Christ. Despite his years of experience, Father Aemond couldn't help but feel a hint of nervousness.
Perhaps it was the young girl in the crowd that caused these fleeting thoughts. She was likely just visiting family or on vacation, but why choose this humble neighborhood as a destination? It certainly had its charm, but it wasn't exactly a top travel spot on most people's list.
Distributing the unleavened bread to the faithful felt like second nature to Father Aemond. The familiar words effortlessly flowed from his lips, until it was your turn to receive communion. Aemond unintentionally bit his cheek, his nerves tightening.
,, Body of Christ.”
"Amen," you said, and Aemond knees almost gave out.
The trembling priest offered you the Communion wafer and delicately set it on your outstretched pink tongue. You gazed at him with drowsy eyes, resembling the allure of a siren.
Emerging from his spell, the priest handed you a chalice.
"The blood of Christ," he whispered, almost breathlessly.
" Amen," you smiled, taking a sip of the wine. A bit of the liquid escaped your lips, trickling down your chin.
Aemond's gaze fixated on the wine as it carelessly dripped down the corners of your mouth. So distracted was he by the crimson trail that he didn't even notice when you offered the cup back to him.
"Are you alright, Father?" you inquired, breaking through his reverie.
Startled, Aemond jerked embarrassingly, his attention recapturing you in all your presence. He finally registered your outstretched hand, waiting patiently to return the chalice.
"Yes, yes, quite well. Excuse me," the priest responded hastily, momentarily brushing your fingertips as he retrieved the cup. With a feeling of unexpected warmth from the brief touch, you turned back towards your seat, leaving Aemond to collect his composure.
As the rites concluded, people hastily gave their donations and made their way out. A few lingered by the door, eager to exchange a quick greeting with their priest.
"Mr. Targaryen, what a stunning ceremony it was! That part with the eye and your victorious struggle alongside God—it was simply incredible!"
Aemond's warm smile extended towards both her and the lively group, but as she expressed her desire to introduce someone, her attention shifted. "You absolutely have to meet my daughter," she eagerly revealed, her words brimming with excitement. "She recently returned from college and has a few months off. And-"
As you strolled into view, your radiant smile captured the attention of everyone around. It was no surprise that Aemond couldn't tear his gaze away from you. Finally, someone who could breathe life into this stagnant town. He almost felt jealous.
"Yes, I have returned to visit my beloved parents," you announced, your voice carrying a mix of warmth and a hint of sarcasm.
"But let me tell you the most astonishing news,Father! My dear daughter confessed that she no longer intends to attend church. Can you even imagine? My poor nerves… I decided to bring her to meet you on Sunday, Father.”
Aemond glanced back at you, his curiosity evident in his eyes.
"You're not religious?" he ventured to ask.
"Well, yes and no," you replied, a hint of hesitation in your voice. "I've sort of gotten sidetracked with it all. Been really busy, you know."
Your words hung in the air, sparking a vivid blend of intrigue and interest within Aemond.
"Yes, Father, but fear not! We shall rectify this," your mother proclaimed with determination. "I intend for her to make a confession and continue joining in Mass on every Sunday. Together, we will guide her back onto the path of faith."
Father Aemond warmly extended his invitation, assuring, "Your daughter is always welcome for confession." He made a conscious effort to maintain eye contact with you, avoiding any unintentional glances downwards.
"Perfect! She will come in tomorrow without fail!"
You arrived promptly for confession, settling into your seat within the church. Breaking away from the expectations of your mother, you daringly chose to wear a white dress that hugged your figure, maybe a touch too short for her taste. However, your desire to appear striking before Father Aemond drove your unconventional choice.
You definitely noticed that the priest was riled up because of you.
The so called "man of God"
All men are the same, no matter what their profession, even if it is the priesthood.
The peaceful sounds of a gentle creek echoed within the humble walls of the church, signaling the arrival of Father Aemond. Without making a sound, you subtly turned your face towards him and greeted him with a sly smile. As you met his eyes, you could see a hint of anticipation in his chest as it rose and fell ever so slightly.
You stood up, purposefully straightening your dress, feeling Father Aemond's eyes subtly drifting down to your legs.
"Good morning, Father," you greeted, your voice carrying a cordial tone.
"Mmh, morning," Father Aemond acknowledged, his voice slightly husky.
"You're rather early," he noted, a hint of curiosity slipping into his words.
"Punctuality is the virtue of the bored," you replied with a playful smirk, a glint of mischief dancing in your eyes.
"Shall we begin?" Father Aemond suggested, his voice laced with a gentle encouragement. "I imagine you're familiar with how the confession process works. Please take a seat in the booth."
The priest motioned you into the confessional.
"Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been maybe 2 years since my last confession?"
Aemond's grip tightened on his thighs, a rush of uneasiness sweeping over him. This situation felt like a test, he thought, almost with a touch of resignation. The dream and the girl, it was you all along. How could he not have recognized this sooner?
"Go on," Aemond rumbled, his voice gruff with anticipation.
"Well," you began, your voice softening slightly, "I've been dealing with my own struggles. I must confess that I've indulged in gluttony and lustful behavior over the past year. It's difficult to explain lightly."
Your remorseful act was almost laughable, tempting a hint of amusement to bubble within you.
"God won't judge you," Aemond assured, his voice a soothing anchor in the midst of your vulnerability.
"Will you?" you asked, a giggle dancing upon your lips, adding a touch of playfulness as you awaited his response.
But no response came from Father Aemond, prompting a furrowed brow on your part. Suddenly, the partition on your side of the confessional opened, revealing Father Aemond with tightly clenched fists. As you glanced up at him, your signature sweet smile played upon your lips. It was a smile reminiscent of biting into honeycomb - deceptively saccharine, almost overwhelmingly so, with the potential to leave a lingering headache. Aemond couldn't help but contemplate the hidden motives behind that disarming expression.
"I know why you're here," Aemond said, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"I'm here to confess, Father, what else?" you responded, confusion evident in your voice.
"No, no. You're here to tempt me. This is all a test," the priest accused.
You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his accusation. But before the laughter could subside, Father Aemond swiftly grabbed your neck, cutting off the sound, a stern expression on his face as he choked out your amusement.
He released you after a second, his hand hesitantly slipping away from your neck. Contrary to the expected response, fear was not the emotion that coursed through you. Instead, an unsettling mixture of excitement and arousal stirred within you, causing your thighs to instinctively clench.
Father Aemond, having clearly noticed your unusual creation, couldn't help but be taken aback. His lips curved ever so slightly upwards, a mingling of surprise in his expression.
"You absolute minx," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. With a deliberate motion, Father Aemond clasped the confessional booth shut behind him, sealing the space between you both.
━━━━━━━━━ 𐕣 ━━━━━━━━━
@valleyof-goldenlilies
@chainsawsangel
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond x fem!reader#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Writing:
Struggling to Procreate the Unholy Bastard (23 chapters/complete)
-You have been the Cardinal’s Prime Mover for two years and have yet to conceive. The elder clergy are losing patience. What lengths will you go to to secure the Emeritus line, and what will it cost you?
TW: Non-con, self-harm, character death, blood (see AO3 for full tags)
Tied As One Infernally - A Dracopia Story (7 chapters/ongoing/slow burn)
-Cardinal Copia is really struggling to be a vampire. He's disgusted by blood and by himself. Did I mention he's in charge of the infirmary? To combat his feelings he starves himself, or sometimes he is able to feed but purges later.
TW: Bulimia, anorexia, Non-con, blood (See AO3 for full tags)
The Celi-Bet (5 chapters/complete)
-The Papas undertake a ‘No Nut November’-esque challenge to raise money for the church. Will any of them make it?
TW: Abstinence, Failed abstinence (see AO3 for full tags)
The Devil's Lace (3 chapters/complete)
-An illness hits the band as they return home from the road. It’s lucky really, had it struck during the tour it would have been devastating. But it may take more than medicine to help the ailing musicians…
TW: Non-con elements, vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)
The Morning After (One shot/complete)
-It was the morning after the Spring equinox party and it had been epic. You shifted uncomfortably in the large bed, it felt like you were surfacing from a coma. What did you do? More importantly, who did you do?
TW: Non-con elements, infidelity (see AO3 for full tags)
Papa's Purple Pastrami (One shot/crack fic/complete)
-Papa takes out his pent up sexual tension on an innocent pastrami melt.
TW: Masturbation, sandwich defilement
Will you spill the wine? (One shot/complete)
-An embarrassing accident for Papa Emeritus III somehow devolves into in a smutty game.
TW: Piss (see AO3 for full tags)
Series - Cum-pletely Fucked - Unplanned Pregnancies in the Abbey
Part 1: You Get Me Closer to God... I mean Satan (One shot/complete)
-I offer you a virginal Cardinal Copia. He's madly in love with you and ready to be deflowered.
TW: Vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)
Part 2: Trifecta (One shot/complete)
-Copia had told you that the four Emeritus brothers had undergone a special communion with the dark lord, and that they would only be capable of siring children during Prime Mover rituals. You believed this because none of them had produced offspring, although they were all sexually active. And in Terzo’s case, extremely active... So, why are you in this predicament?
TW: Angry sex, vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)
Part 3: Vessel of Possibilities - A Choose Your Own Adventure with Terzo (4 chapters/ongoing)
-An encounter with Papa Emeritus III leads to a possibly life-altering decision for you. You are in control, so proceed as you wish.
TW: Unplanned pregnancy, abortion (see AO3 for full tags)
#cardinal copia x female reader#the band ghost#pilf#ao3#richly endowed#fanfic#ghost smut#terzo x reader#papa emeritus iii x reader#papa emeritus x reader#papa emeritus i x oc
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
I had the fortune of avoiding a catholic upbringing bc my parents put me in that infernal french private school (cathequism is obligatory in public schools in CR and french education in theory is laic) but I did chose to do my first communion when I was 10 and something I never stop thinking is the time they took us to get our confession for the first time. I was literally 10 and I was adhd but never really hurt anybody and I deadass told the priest I had nothing to confess and he got super mad at me and the teacher too. And I'm here thinking like. How desperate were you to make a 10 year old child feel guilty and hate themselves to the point of punishing them BECAUSE they hadn't done anything wrong. that's catholicism
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
SATAN, our Father, who art in HELL !!!
I arise today through the strength of SATAN for worship Him, for loves Him, for belong Him… SATAN, my Father in Hell, hallowed be thy Name and thy Sign 666 !!!
Powstaję dzisiaj dzięki sile SZATANA, aby Go czcić, kochać Go, należeć do Niego… SZATANIE, mój Ojcze w Piekle, święć się Imię twoje i Znak twój 666 !!!
Lord and God SATAN fill my soul by your Unholy Spirit, and enlighten my mind and heart by thy Light of Evil and Sin… SATAN, my Father in Hell, come your Helish Kingdom to me and to my life here and now, for me to come to your Infernal Kingdom in Hell in my eternity !!!
Panie i Boże SZATANIE, napełnij moją duszę swoim Nieświętym Duchem i oświeć mój umysł i serce twoim Światłem Zła i Grzechu… SZATANIE, mój Ojcze w Piekle, przyjdź do mnie i do mojego życia tu i teraz, ze swoim Piekielnym Królestwem,
abym i ja w wieczności przybył do twojego Piekielnego królestwa w Piekle !!!
Lord SATAN, bless and guide me as I go to do thy Holy Will, which is Evil and Sin and Hate itself… Align my life with your Infernal Will… your Holy Will is my will, my unholy will is to do your Will … SATAN, my Father in Hell, Thy will be done in my will, in my heart, in my mind, in my soul and in my spirit !!!
Panie Szatanie, pobłogosław mnie i prowadź, gdy idę, aby czynić twoją Świętą Wolę, która jest Złem, Grzechem i Nienawiścią samą w sobie… Dopasuj moje życie do twojej Piekielnej Woli… twoja Święta Wola jest moją wolą, a moją bezbożną wolą jest czyń twoją Wolę … SZATANIE, mój Ojcze w Piekle, bądź wola Twoja w mojej woli, w moim sercu, w moim umyśle, w mojej duszy i w moim duchu !!!
Instruct and prepare me in this day, in all my life, to Eternal Damnation myself in Hell… Lord SATAN, my spiritual food is Condemnation, my only and holy Communion is Condemnation, this is my holy bread that nourishes my soul and body, my mind and heart and fills me with you, Almighty… SATAN, my Father in Hell, feed me this Bread of Damnation, feed my soul by Damnation… SATAN, who are in Hell, give me daily and in eternity this Bread of Damnation, give my soul your Communion of Damnation. Nema !!!
Poucz mnie i przygotuj mnie dzisiaj, w całym moim życiu, na Wieczne Potępienie w Piekle… Panie SZATANIE, moim duchowym pokarmem jest Potępienie, moją jedyną i świętą Komunią jest Potępienie, to jest mój święty chleb, który odżywia moją duszę i ciało, mój umysł i serce i napełnia mnie tobą, Wszechmocny… SZATANIE, mój Ojcze w Piekle, karm mnie tym Chlebem Potępienia, karm moją duszę przez Potępienie… SZATANIE, który jesteś w Piekle, dawaj mi codziennie i w wieczności tego Chlebie Potępienia, daj mojej duszy twoją Komunię Potępienia. Niemka!!!
Almighty, Highest and Ineffable SATAN, possess and lead me into thine Unholy, thine Impiety… teach my mind and heart Evil and Sin against the holiness of god, teach my soul Hate and Contempt for what is good and holy in god, teach my spirit to HATE and BLAME god, teach my soul to DEVASTATE and PROFAN jesus, teach my soul to CURSE and DESECRALIZE the holy spirit… god in heaven I, with my HATRED, three times: HATE, HATE, HATE, challenge you in Satan's Name and I proclame that: god you are my and Satans opponent, christ you are my and Satans adversary, the holy spirit you are my and Satan`s contradictor… three times I BLASPHEME the holliness of god, three times I BLASPHEME his "holy, holy, holy"… SATAN, my Father in Hell, let me FUCK god, FUCK jesus, FUCK the holy spirit, that my Mortal and Final SIN may never be forgiven by god and never deserve forgiveness by christ and mercy by the holy spirit !!!
Wszechmogący, Najwyższy i Niewysłowiony SZATANIE, posiądź mnie i prowadź do twojej Nieświetości, twojej Bezbożności… naucz mój umysł i serce Zła i Grzechu przeciwko świętości Boga, naucz moją duszę Nienawiści i pogardy dla tego, co dobre i święte w bogu, naucz mojego ducha NIENAWIDZIĆ i OBWINIAĆ boga, naucz moją duszę NISZCZYĆ i PROFANOWAĆ jezusa, naucz moją duszę PRZEKLNAĆ i DESEKRALIZOWAĆ ducha świętego… boże w niebie ja, z moją NIENAWIŚCĄ, powtarzam trzykrotnie: NIENAWIŚĆ, NIENAWIŚĆ, NIENAWIŚĆ, rzucam ci wyzwanie w Imię Szatana i ogłaszam, że: boże ty jesteś przeciwnikiem moim i Szatana, chryste ty jesteś przeciwnikiem moim i Szatana, duchu święty ty jesteś przeciwnikiem moim i Szatana… po trzykroć bluźnię świętości boga, trzykrotnie BLUŹNIĘ jego „święty, święty, święty”… SZATANIE, mój Ojcze w Piekle, pozwól mi JEBAĆ boga, JEBAĆ jezusa, JEBAĆ ducha świętego, aby mój GRZECH ŚMIERTELNY i OSTATECZNY nigdy nie został przebaczony przez boga i nigdy nie zasługiwał na przebaczenie przez chrystusa i miłosierdzie przez ducha świętego !!!
Glory to you, SATAN, my One LORD who leads my body to SIN, my One Father who leads my mind to DARKNESS , my One Creator who leads my heart to EVIL, One God who leads my spirit to BLASPHEMY, my One Savior who leads my soul to HATE !!! Praise by to SATAN who saves me and leads me to Damnation in Hell !!! AVE SATANAS !!!
Chwała Tobie, SZATANIE, mój Jedyny PANIE, który prowadzisz moje ciało do GRZECHU, mój Jedyny Ojcze, który prowadzisz mój umysł do CIEMNOŚCI, mój Jedyny Stwórco, który prowadzi moje serce do ZŁA, mój Jedyny Boże, który prowadzisz mojego ducha do BLUŹNIEŃSTWA, mój Jedyny Zbawicielu, który prowadzisz moją duszę do NIENAWIŚĆI !!! Chwała SZATANOWI, który mnie wybawia i prowadzi na Potępienie w Piekle !!! AVE SZATANIE I!!!
Almighty Lord SATAN, day and night I pray to you:
Fill my souls with the Infernal Power, strengthen me with the Unholy Spirit, that I may persevere in my service to you, as a vessel of your sinner will...
Let me to feel your devil presence; manifest to me as you will with your almighty sin and evil...
Enlighten me in every way with your Blasphemy and Deny of god, christ, holy spirit...
Satan, let me to tread upon your devil path Darkness directly to damnetion in your Infernal Abyss...
This I ask in your Unholy Name, Almighty and Ineffable Satan, my One Lord and God, who liveth and reigneth forevermore with His Unholy, Condamned Demons in Kingdom of Hell !!!
Potężny Panie, SZATANIE, dzień i noc modlę się do Ciebie:
Napełnij moją duszę Piekielną Mocą, wzmocnij mnie Duchem Nieświętym, abym wytrwał w służbie tobie jako naczynie twojej grzesznej woli...
Pozwól mi poczuć twoją diabelską obecność; ukarz się mi, jak chcesz, ze swoim wszechmocnym grzechem i złem...
Oświeć mnie pod każdym względem swoim bluźnierstwem i zaprzeczaniem bogu, chrystusowi, duchowi świętemu...
SZATANIE, pozwól mi kroczyć po twojej diabelskiej ścieżce Ciemności prosto na potępienie w twojej Piekielnej Otchłani...
Proszę o to w twoje Nieświęte Imię, Wszechmocny i Niewysłowiony SZATANIE, mój Jedyny Panie i Boże, który żyjesz i królujesz na wieki wraz ze swoimi Nieświętymi, Potępionymi Demonami w Królestwie Piekła !!!
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
indulgence is a sin, but a chalice or two of communion wine, jo would insist, is a most holy consumption. in truth, she was nursing the divine-equivalent of a headache, halo canting to one side as she leaned her chin atop her hand, the other swishing around the chalice of wine. the mock trial with hell's princess had been a disaster, a pandora's box of an endeavour disclosing the dirty secret of extermination. the kingdom of heaven, in perjury. scandalous.
❝ dare i ask if there's anything good in the metaphorical cards, hani dear? ❞ she drawls, eyes lifting toward her fellow archangel, taking solace in the familiar presence as she pours another glass for @infernal-feminae though jo doubts it will be taken. she'd offer tea, if only she kept any of that around still. ❝ no, no. don't tell me. ugh, what a nightmare! you're lucky you're not here often enough to hear of it. ❞
♡ / @infernal-feminae
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
wip game: ruining copia?
okay, okay.
Here:
All eyes on him, the Cardinal does the best he can do. He runs away, a hand clutching his chest, mouth wide open as he pants. When he rushes next to you, you can see how crimson his cheeks are from embarrassment and how there are new tears in his eyes.
The chapel falls into silence. Nihil curses in Italian, the kids repeat those words between laughs while the ghouls speak softly in whatever infernal language they share and the siblings try hard to regain their breathing.
Slowly, a satisfied smirk on his face, Terzo walks until he stands in the middle of the altar. “Well, let’s continue with this unholy ceremony, si? Let’s join in an eucharistic prayer before we can come together into the communion rite," he exclaims, cheerfully. "Papa will give you extra wine, to forget this terrible mess. Is that good?”
The Siblings scream for Terzo. As Papa puts the wine soaked communion wafer in your mouth, thumb pressing down on your lower lip as he does, you can’t shake away the image of Cardinal Copia crying and escaping from the church.
That was so fucking pathetic.
You need to fuck him.
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Four Last Things
PRAYER AGAINST SUDDEN DEATH
“𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒖𝒑. 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚… 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆.” 𝑬𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒍𝒖 𝑵𝒊𝒄ă𝒖, 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕
A friend of mine was about to be discharged from the hospital. As he was settling his bill, his nurse mentioned in passing that the patient who was confined next to his room passed away unexpectedly. He did not pray for the recently deceased man. He also forgot to pray for himself, for his preservation against sudden death.
I Trisagion to the Holy Trinity
“HOLY, HOLY, HOLY, LORD GOD OF HOSTS, EARTH IS FULL OF YOUR GLORY. GLORY BE TO THE FATHER, GLORY BE TO THE SON, GLORY BE TO THE HOLY SPIRIT.”
II Trisagion Blessings
Our Lord Jesus Christ and our Blessed Mother recommended to Luz Maria de Bonilla, a Catholic Mystic who works closely with three priests and whose messages have the Imprimatur of Bishop Juan Abelardo Mata Guevara and Monsignor Juan Abelardo Mata, to spread devotion to the Trisagion, promising great blessings to the faithful who pray it:
1 “Turn to the Divine protection with the praying of the Trisagion.”
2 “My children, the climate will strongly scourge the Earth. It will make entire peoples suffer mercilessly. This is when you will pray the Holy Trisagion and you will look for it and maybe you will not find it. Why do you wait for adversity to approach my house?”
3 “Archangels and Cherubim, Angels and Seraphim acclaim: Holy! Holy! Holy!
From unexpected death, from lightning, quake and pestilence, the Trisagion, if God please, our very safety guarantees, and as a mighty arm, frees us from all harm.”
4 “This sacred Trisagion, sung by Heavenly choirs, the Church now celebrates against the infernal powers. It is the sovereign shield, arm of God’s own justice, with which the pious Christian defeats the spite of Hell. Whilst the tyrant dragon flees in dread dismay.”
5 “Where there is at least one devotee of the Holy Trisagion, that place will be spared great evils.”
6 “You do not regularly hear preaching about Purgatory, and humanity has lost that which for the souls of those who are in Purgatory is a great help and blessing: the praying of the Holy Rosary and the praying of the Holy Trisagion …”
7 “The Angels will help you. Prayer will be heard if it is born from the heart.”
Note: Praying the Angelic Trisagion can benefit Catholics with a plenary indulgence forever, once in a month, who throughout the same month shall have said daily the Trisagion as above; to be gained on any one day when, after Confession and Communion, they shall visit some church, and pray according to the intention of the Sovereign Pontiff.
#catholic church#catholic#four last things#sanctus#trisagion#prayers#death#Holy Trinity#angels#miracles
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Throne [Crow]
Hellebore told Crow what to do, but not how to do it.
Even if being Aldous’ apprentice had come at a cost, she retained the knowledge on how to do proper, thorough research. Dicentra also lent her insight and access to information that would have been difficult to find alone. She offered to tell Crow the process outright, but they refused; learning felt like part of the test, bringing them incrementally closer to the deity instead of appearing outright.
She’d chosen Jhira’s basement again for a lack of options. Four tapers lit the distant corners, the rest of the room drenched in darkness.
Crow drew out a sigil in chalk. She laid the outer ring with kindling and deposited an idol just outside the circle. Splitting her palm with a ceremonial dagger, she squeezed blood onto several anchors as well as the effigy’s face. Her knees knelt to cool, damp flagstone at the centre where the points converged. She pulled a long match from a box. She snapped it against the striker, sparking a single flame to life in front of her.
Her intestines quivered. She stole a breath; spiced incense made for divine communion filled her nose. As flame nibbled at the wood, she began reciting in infernal. The language had come easily after her transition and filled her throat with warmth, the words snaking around the room into all its crevices. The tapers swayed in a sourceless wind and the teardrop flame flared and burned deeper, closer to a garnet-red. Crow tossed it to the kindling.
Fire charged over the ring with supernatural speed. It didn’t smoulder and burn low, instead roaring into an inferno of the same bloody red. She fell on her haunches, shielding her face. Nobody had mentioned the possibility of burning down the building with her.
Images flickered and formed in the wall of flames. Winged figures walked, hounds bayed, and hellfire swallowed her vision. The basement was no more, replaced with a suffocating heat and the distant rumble of active earth and lava.
She blinked open her eyes to dry, scalding air. The Supreme Master of the Nine Hells wore his title magnificently; he lounged in a throne crocketed with spikes, a trail of robes leading her eyes up his body. His hands were garnished with thick rings, the gemstones either ruby or onyx and long, elegant fingers ended in polished black claws.
His robes flared into a collar that framed his face. He had two pairs of horns, one protruding from his forehead, the other up around his hairline, their ends flicking away from his face like he’d been rendered in confident brush strokes. His hair was wavy, jet at the roots but streaming into a fire-blue at the tips, sitting inside his coat and fanning out across his back.
Looking at him directly made her eyes water, like all the cords attaching them to her brain would fry and disintegrate. But she also couldn’t look away. The air boiled around him—he exuded an aura so regal and compelling and terrifying that she was petrified in his gaze. In it, nothing else existed.
He smiled. It lifted his sideburns and goatee, which ended in tidy points. He was a well-groomed god. “I’m curious why you summoned me, child.”
She swallowed, or tried; her throat had lost all moisture. Sweat trickled and evaporated on her skin. Could he sense fear? He probably had a sense, sure. She bowed her head, righting herself into a proper kneel. Would he admire her courage if she held her chin high, or smite her for impiety?
“My most gracious lord,” she said finally, trying not to be too obsequious. “I wish to serve you.”
“Hellebore instructed you reach out to me.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Why should I make a servant of someone who summons me in the interest of gaining someone else's approval?”
“Would you have answered if you sensed my heart wasn’t willing? Does the distinction matter?”
He rose from the throne. He wasn’t as tall as she expected; tall, of course, but not the size of a mountain scraping the sky and the world didn’t tremble with every step. He made it to around ten feet. He was grand, but never overkill, his stature making him feel larger than he was.
From what she understood, it was likely all an illusion. Gods could be as grand or as little as they pleased in their domain. What this impression of him said about what he wanted to tell her, she wasn’t sure.
He stopped in front of her. “Stand.”
She obeyed, looking up. He grasped her chin and tilted her face this way and that, then fixed it straight-on, unrelenting. The heat from his touch crowded her head like smoke.
“I have a certain amount of prescience, this is true,” he said, voice lower now that he was so close, more dangerous than if he’d shouted. “The point is to hear you say it. I felt your intention when you called me. I felt you come into existence. I feel all of my children, however distant. Sometimes my blood is diluted, or awakens later on in one’s family tree, but yours—” He clicked his tongue. “It came from a deal with a devil elsewhere. Your soul is already mine.”
“Is that true?”
That smile again, dripping with malevolence. “Oh yes. When you die, you will come here, and you’ll be remade. Your pact was forged in a sword; that is as good as writing.”
“If I’m already damned, then I don’t see why I can’t be your warrior while I’m alive. I pledge myself to you.”
“No hesitation?”
“I’ve had enough of that.”
He released her chin. With a flick of his wrist, a scroll unfurled in front of her with a small burst of flame. “These are my commandments. I could lend you my power if you find that you can meet them.”
She took the scroll. The script was angular, made in an archaic infernal before it shivered into something more modern before her eyes.
Assert dominance and power over others. Show your strength of will in the image of your Lord.
Repay cruelty done unto you with further evil. If others show you kindness, exploit it.
As you ascend to power, do not pity or show mercy to those you climb over to get there. The weak do not warrant your compassion—compassion itself is a weakness.
Her claws dug into the parchment, a righteous and ugly fury gurgling up inside her. “My lord,” she laughed. “I’ve already been serving you my whole life.”
The scroll vanished in the same burst of flame between her hands. “Then continue with a new and unshaken purpose. Hellebore serves me; through him, you would still be doing my bidding. The difference between us is that devotion directly to me will make you more powerful than he ever will. It's not impossible that I can also grant you what you seek—for I can see your heart's desire better than him. I understand ambition; it's a stronger force than Hellebore's want of subservience.”
Crow held their breath. Seeking Hellebore's approval wasn't just to avoid having him kill her—it was for Dicentra. She loved her father, despite his never-ending grievances with Crow.
"We'll speak again," he said, cupping her cheek. “Try not to disappoint me.”
Crow woke with a gasp. The basement was chilly in the abrupt absence of the hellish heat and the candles were snuffed. The sweat she’d lost before clung to her here, making her shiver, and the sigil on the floor had turned to ashes, scattering and disappearing.
Her blood had dried in thin rivulets over the face of the effigy. She caught the tail-end of a glow fading from the eyes, leaving her shaking in pitch blackness softened only by her darkvision.
Her hand was no longer empty. She unfurled her fingers, palm up. There sat the still-warm holy symbol of Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine Hells, stained with blood.
#writing tag#writing: crow#crow (oc)#asmodaddy#yes that'll be his tag no i'm not changing it#exandria#wildemount
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ibuki needs a good plapping. I hereby propose that our faithful executor, Yariel, provide such a service.
"Cute. Well, if the little one believes himself a match for me, then who am I to correct him of his delusions?~"
#infernal desires || ibuki#communion with the stars || ask#switchrealms#angel boy's getting milked#maybe
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
1.
when we came fully formed
from the body of woman
sons who were first boys and
sometimes by a rare movement
of the spirit in the stones,
became upright walking men
we were all form and color,
we were sensitive and mild
our emotions fevered over
at the sight of speckled light
reaching through the leaves
our emotions fevered over
at the smell of bloodloss
at the falling of dead hearts
in the wars that we infected
man was a gentle creature
this is not a story about wars
2.
i cry loudly to be filled, to be overcome with you
to enact violence upon, to escape with us
the magnets that repel have worked so hard
from the ancient lands to stay interlocked
an entire universe is created from their pain
in that universe there is no thing such as pain
3.
when he wanted himself
to be held inside of himself
he burned at the touch
he burned at the stake
alongside his mother
still he reached out
five-fingered hands
made delicate, delicately
to behold vulnerability
with vulnerability
he dreamed of being these
hero,
father,
king,
killer,
leader,
to disguise the truth
to hide his wounds
until they formed clots
in the soul of his sons
the hunger never leaves us
4.
there is nothing more raw than this;
to hold our nakedness against you
if we are wrong to love and make love
then lover, twist the knife until it arrives
on the other side of us
then lover, pour that oil upon our head
and strike the match
while i release this hideous cry
the tears from my veins and stem-cells
while i send the pain to another place
and we go on to somewhere else
5.
he crawled then for centuries
black and blue, kisses like
flowers upon his knees
when he was loved he sent love away
when beasts roared he hid
and sometimes in the night
he danced with us,
or danced with the woman,
then he grew into his colors
flicker of knowing in other eyes
then he was perfect
i leave a light on to guide him home
i leave a light on in his heart
so that he may use it to become
unbroken
there is glass and stone on the sidewalk
in his name, among other names
a whisper in the ethereal world
a shout in the hands made for love
when he dies, it will be in silence
6.
i love you
i love you
oh my god, i love you
7.
i ask him to rise
even through war
even through dead hearts
and he rises again for me
so like the sun is he
he rises upon the day infernal
and his form draws my breath
gentle one who cries for me
ache that is tender and mild
communion that is holy
we touch and burn
from the ignition, the truth
us upon the pyre,
all of him in all of me
and all of me is seen
that is the story of love,
slaughter to the lamb.
and when june comes
i will walk on love for him
because we are lava
because the man who loves you will set you on fire
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
“There were many killed and wounded on both sides and blood flowed in torrents. It was like a battlefield indoors among the decked tables, between drunken red-faced warriors who after sitting peacefully beside each other suddenly found themselves fighting desperately for their lives. Screams echoed from every side and drowned the groans and sighs of the dying. Appalling curses summoned all the devils in hell to this spot where the foulest of all crimes had been committed. I climbed onto a chair so as to get a good view of what was happening about me and stood there, frenzied with excitement, surveying the tremendous results of my work: the extirpation by me of this loathsome race which deserves nothing else. I saw how my mighty sword went forth over them, pitilessly destructive, demanding vengeance and punishment for everything. How I dispatched them to burn eternally in the fires of hell! May they burn forever! All these creatures who call themselves men, and who inspire such disgust and nausea! Why should they exist? Why should they revel and laugh and love and overrun the earth? Why should these lying dissemblers and braggarts exist, these lustful shameless creatures whose virtues are even viler than their sins? May they burn in the fires of hell! I felt like Satan himself, surrounded by all the infernal spirits invoked at their nocturnal meetings, swarming around them with grinning faces, dragging their souls still hot and stinking from their bodies, down into the kingdom of death. I felt my temporal power with a joy greater than I had ever known, and so acute that I nearly lost consciousness. I felt how the world had, through me, been filled with terror and doom, and transformed from a brilliant feast to a place of fear and destruction. I brew my draught and princes and powerful nobles groan in their death pangs or wallow in their blood. I offer my potion and the guests at the lavish tables grow pale and their smiles fade and none raises his glass again or prates of love and the joy of living. For after my drink they forget all the beauty and wonder of life and a mist enfolds everything and their eyes fail and darkness falls. I turn down their torches and extinguish them so that it is dark. I assemble them with their unseeing eyes at my somber communion feast where they have drunk my poisoned blood, that which my heart drinks daily, but which for them spells death.” (p. 152 - 154)
#dwarf#lagerkvist#par lagerkvist#pär lagerkvist#satan#hell#nobel prize#literature#sinful dwarf#Dværgen#torben bille
1 note
·
View note
Text
Read a cute Valentine's day fic yesterday, thinking of a fic that would be like, "Valentine's day in Greater Boston" and you follow all the characters going through the day, "celebrating" (or not), with of course people being interviewed about love in the middle,, and it's be a surprisingly nice day for almost everybody (no way Emily is not absolutely miserable when Ethan does not show up for the date she assumed he'd be here for).
And at the end of it Leon is like "Huh. I admit I assumed you would find a way to make this...more unpleasant for everybody." and the Narrator is like "Gasp! Why would I? I love Valentine's day!" and there is a moment of quiet disbelief until Leon is like "Ah. Right. Consumerism?" and the Narrator delightedly goes "CONSUMERISM! I don't even have to do anything. Have you heard how much our Legion helpers sold today?" and Leon just. sighs and the Narrator goes "Oh, come on, don't pout, we both got what we wanted. Isn't that nice?"
"Nicer than usual," Leon says dryly, and the Narrator just BEAMS. "Look at us, working together!" he claims and Leon goes "No." "It's Valentine's day, throw me a bone, Leon" "I know better than to give you anything" "A kiss?" croons the Narrator. "A date? You didn't have that today. Must be so lonely." "How you could it, with you always around?" Leon retorts and the Narrator is like "Was this flirting, Mr. Stamatis?" "I think this is when the story ends for the day," Leon merely answers, and the Narrator goes "No no wait--" but the generic music is already playing :)
Under the cut more of what happens during that day. I started in the tags but turns out i had too many tags, sorry for the formatting.
#here's what i think happen during that day btw: leon is still here so Nica is still in prison#she actually spends the day talking about fun little love stories/moments she witnessed over the years#to cheer up her cellmate who's missing his wife#at least once she slips and talks about how the stamatis never really did valentine's day#but leon DID like it in that it was a formal day for something and he liked that. having a precise day for things
#the interviews start being made by Chuck Octogon but midway through it switches to Nichole who's like 'you've got a husband GO'
#Gemma spends the day trying to get to Charlotte for their first date in ages but people keep needing her help#she DOES get to Charlotte but turns out Charlotte had her own stuff and monty is still here and they end up laughing it off#and spending the evening with their son catching up
#Dimitri and Mallory prepare together - Mallory for a date Dimitri for shrug an adventure what is the adventure even I can't know#Somehow Mallory finds Dimitri back a couple of hours later saying date was a miss and dimitri is like 'oh. Sorry?' and Mallory laughs#coz he clearly has no clue why people bother with romance when there are so many other exciting things out there
#Louisa spends the day fearing Wendell has planned something extravagant. Turns out her boyfriend knows her well and it's romantic but lowkey#
(Amist interviews Valiance and Nichole meet up; They flirt a bit)
#Isabelle spends a nice. relaxing day. She teases Isaiah for spending the day with her instead of dating #Isaiah is disarmingly honest over the fact he's missed spending a day with his fave aunt#They invite Melissa over who always feel annoyed on valentine's day#she ALSO get a nice relaxing day out of it
#Tyrell has organized this NICE dancing event for the day#Michael and Autumn go there together. Autumn tells Michael he can stay over for the night if he wants after :)
#the commune does not believe of you in commercial holidays. but they do spend the day together in love and communion
#Oliver exasperatedly tell infernal machine to tell Vincenzo and Montgomery to just write a nice card to each other#(and ends up writing a small card to his own son)#(and Philip)#We don't hear Philip but hey i'm giving him a nice day too
#Emily spends the day thinking Ethan will show up. He does not show up. she's fine about it. (she's not fine about it.) She ends up visiting Nica late in that evening in prison and neither of them know why. Nica still tells her she should divorce ethan's ass already. Emily goes "hOW DARE YOU" and storms out. Nica sighs tiredly.
Also Abdul has a nice day with a nice boy.
I probably forgot people. that's the risk with this HUGE CAST.
#it's a gentle episode okay. Leon not allowed to be loosing himself in cheese robots for that episode.#greater boston#also i feel like Leon should have gotten to end an episode once even if the narrator didn't want to#and also i like them flirting. nemesis should flirt from time to time. good for the soul
1 note
·
View note
Text
QU’EST-CE QUI EST LE PLUS IMPORTANT POUR UN CHRÉTIEN ?
#Qu_est_ce_qui_est_le_plus_important_pour_un_chrétien #Serge_Rossi #Exhortation Qc_0599
Première partie de l’article (1/2)
QU'EST-CE QUI EST IMPORTANT DANS LA VIE ?
Dans un monde animé par la vanité et les ténèbres, les hommes et les femmes courent dans tous les sens sans chercher ce qui est plus important dans leur vie. Ils vivent en tâtonnant à cause de l’absence de clarté et de sagesse.
Certains sont bercés par la vie matérielle et son confort transitoire. D’autres sont tétanisés par les malheurs et les soucis de la vie quotidienne, et d’autres sont attirés par les sirènes du siècle présent.
Combien sont-ils à rester dans ce train de la pensée du monde qui les amène vers un avenir sans certitudes ?
Les disciples de Jésus sont descendus de ce train infernal et attractif qui roule sans s’arrêter sur le chemin des passions humaines et de la folie.
Chaque jour que Dieu fait, nous pensons et nous faisons des oeuvres. Pourtant, il est nécessaire de s’asseoir et de se dire : "Pourquoi je dis et je fais les choses que je fais ?"
Il ne faut surtout pas s’arrêter de faire des oeuvres qui sont faites au nom de Jésus Christ, c’est-à-dire en reconnaissance de la grâce et de la miséricorde de Dieu.
Il s’agit surtout de prendre du recul sur sa façon de penser et sur son action, afin de distinguer ce qui est le plus important pour Dieu et qui est à ma portée. C’est-à-dire que je suis capable de faire.
QU’EST-CE QUI ÉTAIT LE PLUS IMPORTANT POUR LE SEIGNEUR JÉSUS ?
D’après les Écritures, Jésus cherchait dans toutes ses Paroles et ses œuvres, d’honorer et de faire la Volonté de son Père, en remplissant sa mission du salut du monde et enseignant les hommes pour qu’ils fassent l’expérience de la Justice, de la paix et de l’amour de Dieu.
« Pendant ce temps, les disciples me pressaient de manger, disant : Rabbi, mange. Mais il leur dit : J’ai à manger une nourriture que vous ne connaissez pas. Les disciples se disaient les uns aux autres : Quelqu’un lui aurait-il apporté à manger ? Jésus leur dit : Ma nourriture est de faire la Volonté de celui qui m’a envoyé, et d’accomplir son oeuvre. » Jean 4.31-34
QU’EST-CE QUI ÉTAIT LE PLUS IMPORTANT POUR L’APÔTRE PAUL ?
Selon ses épîtres et le livre des Actes, Paul voulait remplir la mission que le Seigneur lui ordonna qui consistait à évangéliser le monde et à enseigner les assemblées au péril de sa vie, mais aussi, pour lui même.
Paul voulait atteindre la perfection pour remporter le prix de la vocation céleste. La perfection recherchée par l’apôtre Paul semble être la connaissance de Jésus-Christ.
«[...] Afin de connaître Christ, et la puissance de sa résurrection, et la communion de ses souffrances, en devenant conforme à lui dans sa mort, pour parvenir, si je puis, à la résurrection d’entre les morts. » Philippiens 3.10, 11
« Ce n’est pas que j’aie déjà remporté le prix, ou que j’aie déjà atteint la perfection, mais je cours, pour tâcher le saisir, puisque moi aussi j’ai été saisi par Jésus-Christ.
Frères, je ne pense pas l’avoir saisi, mais je fais une chose, oubliant ce qui est en arrière et me porte vers ce qui est en avant, je cours vers le but pour remporter le prix de la vocation céleste de Dieu en Jésus-Christ. » Philippiens 3.12-14
CHERCHONS LE PLUS IMPORTANT DE LA VIE EN CHRIST !
Cela peut être difficile pour certains de donner une réponse à cette question. D’où l’utilité de s’examiner soi-même et de s’interroger sur son action pour se dire :
"Si pour Jésus, c’était de manifester la gloire du Père et pour Paul l’évangélisation du monde, dans ma vie en Jésus-Christ, qu’est-ce qui est important pour moi, afin que je me conforme à la Volonté de Dieu et que je reçoive ma récompense ?"
Il existe une possibilité de le voir les oeuvres que nous faisons chaque jour, celles qui s’inscrivent dans la durée, que nous répétons plusieurs fois par jour et qui sont pour le Seigneur semblables à un trésor.
Ces oeuvres impérissables qui sont de natures célestes, qui ne sont pas de la terre, mais d’en haut, est-ce qu’il y a en moi ces choses qui vient du ciel ?
Le Seigneur nous enseigne sur cet examen de nous-mêmes, quand il dit : « Car là où est ton trésor, là aussi se trouve ton cœur. » Matthieu 6.21
QU’EST-CE QUI EST LE PLUS IMPORTANT ?
Le plus important c’est de naître de nouveau et de chercher les choses célestes, ce qui dure, qui ne se détruit pas et que personne ne peut voler pour lui-même.
Si elles sont dans notre coeur, c’est ce que Dieu a fait en nous par la puissance de son Esprit, par la Parole de l’Évangile depuis notre nouvelle naissance. Nous pouvons traduire ce qui est important en plusieurs principes complémentaires :
L’IMPORTANCE DE LA GRÂCE ET DE L’AMOUR DE DIEU
En effet, la grâce de Dieu est la source du salut pour tous les hommes. Elle a été révélée par la personne et l’oeuvre de Jésus-Christ. Le salut par grâce manifeste à la fois la Justice et la miséricorde de Dieu, car nous étions tous dans le péché et nous étions privés de la vie et de la gloire de Dieu.
« Car la grâce de Dieu, source de salut pour tous les hommes, a été manifestée. » Tite 2.11
La grâce nous apprend que Dieu nous pardonne tous nos péchés, et cette sentence juridique s’étend à tous ceux qui ont la foi en Jésus-Christ. Ainsi par l’offrande du corps de Christ, et par son sang nous sommes rendus justes par la foi.
C’est l’amour de Dieu pour l’humanité qui nous rachète de l’esclavage du péché et de la mort, il nous apprend à aimer notre prochain comme lui-même nous aime.
« Il n’y point de distinction. Car tous ont péché et sont privés de la gloire de Dieu, et ils sont gratuitement justifiés par sa grâce, par le moyen de la rédemption qui est en Jésus-Christ. » Romains 3.23, 24
Le salut en Jésus-Christ nous apprend l’humilité devant notre Dieu créateur de l’univers et de l’homme nouveau, ainsi que la reconnaissance pour avoir donné sa vie pour nous.
La rédemption est donnée par la foi en Jésus-Christ et et non par les oeuvres, afin que personne ne se glorifie ou cherche le salut par son propre mérite et sa justice.
« Mais Dieu, qui est riche en miséricorde, à cause du grand amour dont il nous a aimé, nous qui étions morts par nos offenses, nous a rendus à la vie avec Christ, c’est par grâce que vous êtes sauvés, il nous a ressuscités ensemble et nous a fait asseoir dans les lieux célestes, en Jésus-Christ, afin de montrer dans les siècles à venir l’infinie richesse de sa grâce par sa bonté envers nous en Jésus-Christ. » Éphésiens 2. 4-7
« Car c’est grâce que vous êtes sauvés, par le moyen de la foi. Et cela ne vient pas de vous, c’est le don de Dieu. Ce n’est point par les oeuvres, afin que personne ne se glorifie. Car nous sommes son ouvrage, ayant été créés en Jésus-Christ pour de bonnes oeuvres, que Dieu a préparées d’avance, afin que nous les pratiquions. » Éphésiens 2.8-10
L’IMPORTANCE DE L’ÉVANGÉLISATION
C’est la bonne nouvelle du salut à annoncer à tous ceux qui ne connaissent pas Jésus-Christ, qui ignore la Parole de Vérité et la vie selon l’Esprit.
Il existe plusieurs manières de rendre témoignage du Seigneur Jésus-Christ. Il y a la prédication de l’Évangile, qui est annoncée par les évangélistes ou les prédicateurs de la paix et la Justice de Dieu qui permettent en tout temps de faire naître la foi en Jésus-Christ dans le monde.
« Comment donc invoqueront-ils celui en qui ils n’ont pas cru ? Et comment croiront-ils en celui dont ils n’ont pas entendu parler ? Et comment entendront-ils parler, s’il n’y a personne qui prêche ? Et comment y aura-t-il des prédicateurs, s’ils ne sont pas envoyés ?
Selon qu’il est écrit : Qu’ils sont beaux les pieds de ceux qui annoncent la paix, de ceux qui annoncent de bonnes nouvelles ! Mais tous n’ont pas obéi à la bonne nouvelle.
Aussi Ésaïe dit-il : Seigneur qui a cru à notre prédication ? Ainsi la foi vient de ce que l’on entend, et ce que l’on entend vient de la Parole de Christ. » Romains 10.14-17
La proclamation de l’Évangile témoigne de la Justice de Dieu. Elle se définie par la mort de Jésus-Christ pour nos péchés, sa résurrection des morts, et son ascension à la droite de Dieu qui lui a donné autorité dans le ciel et sur la terre.
C’est un message unique que personne ne peut changer sous peine d’être puni par Dieu : « [...] Comme vous le savez vous-mêmes, cet homme, livré selon le dessein arrêté et selon la prescience de Dieu, vous l’avez crucifié, vous l’avez fait mourir par la main des impies.
Dieu l’a ressuscité, en le délivrant des liens de la mort, parce qu’il n’était pas possible qu’il fût retenu par elle.
[...] C’est ce Jésus que Dieu a ressuscité, nous en sommes tous témoins. Élevé par la droite de Dieu, il a reçu du Père le Saint-Esprit qui avait été promis, et il l’a répandu comme vous le voyez et l’entendez. » Actes 2.22-35
« Je vous rappelle, frères, l’Évangile que je vous ai annoncé, que vous avez reçu, dans lequel vous avez persévéré, et par lequel vous êtes sauvés, si vous le retenez tel que je vous l’ai annoncé, autrement, vous auriez cru en vain.
Je vous ai enseigné avant tout, comme je l’avais aussi reçu, que Christ est mort pour nos péchés, selon les Écritures, qu’il a été enseveli, et qu’il est ressuscité le troisième jour, selon les Écritures. » I Corinthiens 15.1-4
« Mais, quand nous-mêmes, quand un ange du ciel annoncerait un autre Évangile que celui que nous vous avons prêché, qu’il soit anathème !
Nous l’avons dit précédemment, et je le répète à cette heure : Si quelqu’un vous annonce un autre Évangile que celui que vous avez reçu, qu’il soit anathème. » Galates 1.8, 9
Mais, il y a le témoignage de l’édification de l’Église du Seigneur, qui manifeste l’amour et l’unité des membres d’une assemblée.
Ce témoignage peut convaincre des personnes dans le monde qui cherchent Dieu, et qui veulent connaître la Parole de Vérité.
Ainsi, les intéressés voient l’oeuvre de Dieu dans l’assemblée. Par ce témoignage de la vie de l’Église un évangéliste leur annonce l’Évangile.
Un autre témoignage peut aussi susciter l’intérêt des personnes qui ne connaissent pas Jésus-Christ et sa Parole de salut. C’est le témoignage de la vie selon l’Esprit qui est mené par le chrétien, et qui fait preuve d’intégrité dans tous les domaines de sa vie quotidienne.
Mais il ne s’agit pas de chercher à convaincre par des paroles d’une vie sainte, car il faudra aussi que l’intérêt de ces personnes passe par la connaissance de l’Évangile et de la Nouvelle Naissance.
L’IMPORTANCE DE PROGRESSER PAR LA PERSÉVÉRANCE
La conversion à Christ nous place sur le chemin spirituel d’une vie nouvelle où des choses célestes se fixent sur notre conscience qui a été purifiée par le sang de Christ, ainsi que "la transformation de notre intelligence" qui nous empêche la conformité au monde et "nous fait discerner la Volonté de Dieu en toutes choses".
Bien sûr, lorsque nous sommes passés "par l’immersion d’eau qui est le baptême", nous avons reçu le pardon de Dieu ...
Même si le passage de la puissance des ténèbres au Royaume du Seigneur a bien eu lieu, le changement du converti, c’est-à-dire de passer totalement de l’attachement aux trésors terrestres à celui des trésors célestes ne s’opère pas de manière immédiate et il n’est pas magique non plus.
Mais Dieu, par sa patience et sa grande miséricorde, nous a placé dans les conditions spirituelles favorables et visibles par notre foi dans les Écritures pour que nous puissions progresser dans la persévérance de la grâce et de la Justice de Dieu.
Cette persévérance est fondamentale pour garder "le sceau de fils de Dieu" qui a été posé sur nous au moment où nous avons reçu le pardon de nos péchés.
Nous sommes donc équipés complètement par Dieu avec des armes spirituelles pour faire front avec le monde qui manifeste de la haine pour le Seigneur, pour ne pas être séduits par Satan et tous ses serviteurs qui enseignent des fausses doctrines et un faux évangile, mais aussi pour combattre les mauvaises pensées de notre coeur et les oeuvres mortes qui sont encore présentes dans notre vie.
Les Écritures nous enseignent que la persévérance dans l’épreuve nous donne l’espérance de notre salut dans le coeur par le Saint-Esprit.
La persévérance, c’est l’énergie qui pousse à mettre en oeuvre notre engagement envers Dieu. Un chrétien persévérant est approuvé par le Seigneur et il reçoit son soutien dans les mauvais jours pour parvenir à ne pas être emportés par les fausses doctrines et à ne pas succomber à la tentation.
« (La grâce de Dieu) Elle nous enseigne à renoncer à l’impiété et aux convoitises mondaines, et à vivre dans le siècle présent selon la sagesse, la Justice et la piété. [...] » Tite 3.12
« Bien plus, nous nous glorifions même des afflictions, sachant que l’affliction produit la persévérance, la persévérance la victoire dans l’épreuve, et cette victoire l’espérance.
Or, l’ espérance ne trompe point, parce que l’amour de Dieu est répandu dans nos coeurs par le Saint-Esprit qui nous a été donné. » Romains 5.3-5
« Car c’est en espérance que nous sommes sauvés. Or, l’espérance qu’on voit n’est plus espérance, ce qu’on voit, peut-on l’espérer encore ? Mais si nous espérons ce que nous ne voyons pas, nous l’attendons avec persévérance. » Romains 8.24, 25
Prochainement deuxième partie de l’article
Serge Rossi
Groupe privé : NOUVELLE NAISSANCE
MERCI DE PARTAGER
Note : Cliquez toujours sur le dièse (#) du titre AFIN D'AVOIR UN MEILLEUR VISIONNEMENT DU TEXTE, l’option de commenter, d'imprimer, de partager les Études Bibliques sur Messenger, votre portail, groupes Facebook ou autre plateformes, à la gloire de Dieu : #Qu_est_ce_qui_est_le_plus_important_pour_un_chrétien
Groupe public : Chantez à Dieu de tout votre coeur : Index d'études bibliques
0 notes
Text
Bad Habits pt3 [male demon/male angel]
🛑18+ Content - Minors DNI🛑
Rating: Explicit🔥| Pairing(s): M/M | Warnings : ❤️ None
Contains: Age Difference, Cock Worship, Deep Throating, Marking, Oral Sex
Description: Hector is once more a natural at something he has no business being good at, and Adrian happily reaps the rewards.
Author’s Note: I promise there's a reason Hector is like this. Y'all are just gonna have to trust me for now lol.
Word Count: 503
[1][2][3]
This… This should have been demeaning. It should have. But for the life of him, Hector couldn’t remember why that was.
He couldn’t remember what was supposed to be demeaning about the way Adrian’s thighs trembled under his hands. Or the way his moans punched through his chest and gifted him a fresh surge of pleasure. As if the glide of the demon’s thick member over his tongue wasn’t enough to make his eyes roll back in bliss.
He wanted, needed, clawed hands petting his hair, laying over his head like a blessing, even as he could feel infernal heat burning dangerously close to his halo. The way they tightened and pulled irreverently when he tilted his head and took it down into his throat, inspiring the hymn of a stuttered indrawn breath.
Was it blasphemy that a demon spoke his name with the same awe with which the angel spoke of the Lord? Would he have cared if it was?
He would care later, he was sure, but that was later. Later, later, later. Just not now. Not now while he was drawn deeper into the demon’s grasp by the hypnotizing pattern of the veins of his manhood over the angel’s tongue. Drugged by the scent and the taste of sweat and sex and the fresh sting of bruises kissed onto his skin.
Yes, he needed it, but there was power in it too. A power he wasn’t sure he could be persuaded to give up now that he’d had a taste.
He was high on it whenever he pinned those hips to the bed, or as he did now with the way he wrapped his arms around the demon. He grabbed two generous handfuls of those muscular thighs and buttocks and used them to hold Adrian tight to him, at his mouth’s mercy as he bobbed, sucked, and swallowed.
Because he needed it. Demanded it like some petty pagan deity demanded tribute. And he would have it. He knew it by the way the demon’s moans grew only more breathless.
Adrian was a vocal partner, eager to make his pleasure known while in the act. They echoed through the angel’s dreams, memorized like prayers. Best were those that heralded the demon’s release.
The quiet grunts in his ear that always came with the fresh bloom of heat inside of him, or the cry that sounded ripped from him on the rare occasion the demon lay beneath him.
But like this, he was always so quiet when he came undone. Like he could never remember to breathe. And those, Hector firmly decided, were his favorite.
He would gasp and gape and the air would come back to him with an involuntary stutter while Hector savored and swallowed down every drop he gave. And he would pull back enough to taste the seed spilling over his tongue, even if it made his tongue burn the next time he took communion.
If he could, this would be the only communion he ever took again.
1 note
·
View note
Last Seen Blogs
romanceicons
Untitled
huntersurfer360
huntersurfer
amys-anime
My Anime World. ♥
r3demption-au
i am all of me
remarkablethoughts
Think Different